


Brass Knuckles & Baes

by AlixxBlack



Series: Holidays with Merthur [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Haunted House, M/M, Modern AU, Punching, and i aint got no more dank memes to tag, corn maze, idk what else to tag, it was super fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlixxBlack/pseuds/AlixxBlack
Summary: Arthur and Merlin have been working in close proximity for a long time and their friendship evolved so naturally that they don't think much about it. When Arthur starts harassing Merlin to come to a Haunted House with him and his friends, it forces them to address the finer details.





	Brass Knuckles & Baes

            Arthur Pendragon, the martial arts instructor at the community center, asked Merlin if he wanted to join some of his buddies hopping around the haunted houses in the area over the weekend. They had a schedule and a plan to hit at least three per day. Initially, Merlin turned him down.

            _“I don’t have that kind of cash right now, I’m helping my foster dad pay bills,”_ Merlin had recited to him countless times in the span of three days. Gaius was an elderly man working in a pharmacy who took Merlin on at the special request of his mother. She became quite ill when he was twelve and would no longer be able to care for him. Ealdor Estates is a nursing home upstate from him, and he makes sure to visit her at least once a month when he can afford the drive, but mostly the Dementia made it difficult to have any true quality time together.

            Arthur was a good guy, though, and eventually threw his hands in the air. He makes a ridiculous amount of money doing classes and private lessons off-site. Besides that, he’s a Pendragon: he comes from a wealthy family. So he looks Merlin dead on after a couple of days, slams a hand on his head and tussles his hair, before declaring, _“All expenses paid, you sod, I swear it!”_

            At that point, Merlin offered to consider it.

            Gaius wouldn’t mind a day spent quietly in his study, reading with a friend or two he’d known from his days as a physician at the hospital. They’d chat about old times over bitter coffee and laugh about the ‘good ole days.’ It wasn’t a weekend he had planned to spend with his mom either, and so the more he thought on it – the more he considered the invitation seriously.

            It was ultimately Gwaine, from the bistro on the main floor of the community center, whom convinced Merlin to just tag along. _“We’re all going, and Arthur refuses to ride along with anyone else. He trusts you and really wants you to come.”_ In spite of the background and upbringing Arthur Pendragon had, he was a decent fellow. Merlin started working at the community center as a part-time employee when he was sixteen, and Arthur had been nineteen at the time. Their friendship was an odd sort of one, since Merlin’s responsibilities were mainly just to clean the second floor classrooms and run errands for the upstairs staff.

            Arthur razzed him hard and often but their relationship became friendlier with time, and by the time Merlin had taken his own position in reception, the pair were quite close. More than once they’d hung out for lunch and dinner after work, since their shifts usually matched almost perfectly. Still, inviting Merlin to spend the entire weekend with him was quite the step up.

            Sure – they were nearly inseparable at work – Arthur finding any reason to make his way to main desk to chat with good pal. Sure – Merlin often repaid the favor by constantly calling Arthur’s personal phone to ask him ridiculous questions about the various messages he ignores from parents in his email. The idea of that carrying over into their personal life, however, seemed absolutely strange.

            But Gwaine had a point. Merlin and Arthur were great friends, regardless if it only seemed to be at work. That’s the only place they spent their time outside of home anyhow, so their bond had to be legitimate. Merlin ran into Arthur in the locker room when he was packing up – and Arthur asked again, _“I need to know if you’re coming or not. If I have to clean out my car – it’s going to day at least a day. Are you in?”_

_“Sure, why not? How scary can a haunted house gimmick be, anyway?”_

            At the time, Arthur had looked a bit dodgy about the comment, but Merlin thought it was more to hype their plans than anything. He never would have guessed that Arthur Pendragon – teacher of all things martial arts – bringer of all pain through pranks – ignorer of all emails – would be _honest to goodness_ scared of haunted houses.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Merlin agrees to go home with Arthur after work, and it wasn’t a brand new experience as he’d gotten rides home from Arthur in the past. Despite being nineteen, Merlin had to share his car with Gaius which meant he usually walked to work from the Pharmacy ten blocks away each morning. After awhile, instead of paying Gaius the fuel costs of driving back to town, Arthur just started offering him rides. But, of course, only after he helped him clean the house up before his dad came back from his business trip.

            Suddenly the idea of being hesitant to spend time with Arthur outside of work seems silly. They did things outside of work. It just usually felt, well, like more work. When they walk inside, a lot his nerves and unrest wash away. There’s a strong scent of burnt cheese filling the air. Arthur scoffs.

            “Ugh, Morgana must be home.”

            Merlin has heard plenty about Arthur’s sister, Morgana. She was his half-sister who went off to college about the same time Merlin started at the center. The pair of them rarely get along but they do a good job keeping up appearances, the way Arthur talks. Even Gwaine and Percival remark that the pair of them behaves as proper siblings most of the time.

            But that charade stops when nobody important is watching. “What the hell are you mucking up now, ‘Gana?”

            She sputters out about how she’s been cooking and crying about something happening at school, and it sounds very tragic. Merlin consoles her while Arthur nods along and agrees. Soon after he tells her off, though, in a brash sort of fashion. “Instead of crying about it why don’t you actually _do_ something about it instead? You always come home and burn out food when you’re upset and I’m right sick of it. Can’t you burn something in the microwave at school for cheaper?”

            Their conversation dies soon afterwards. Morgana criticizes him for being so blind to the limitations of the social structure in a college, and that she can’t mess up in her final year. Arthur tosses a bottle of water at Merlin and then grabs a sack of snacks before marching ahead of him and gesturing up the flight of stairs.

            “I want to head out to a local haunted house the boys are skipping. I figure we can warm up and then come back to hit the hay. Don’t want to be here too long with _her_ wandering around interrupting every single thought we have….” Secretly, Merlin expects, Arthur loves his sister dearly. They each have their respective mother’s strongest features and personalities, but their bullheadedness comes from their father, Uther, and it shows nearly all the time… especially when they’re interacting…

            Merlin follows behind him, glances all around the house at the things he’s seen before but never really _seen_ before, and he’s in awe every step of the way. Arthur wasn’t just ‘well off,’ he was properly wealthy. Merlin felt ashamed to be so poor in his presence. “Sure,” he agrees, hoping just to get back out of the house again before he starts comparing their entire lives side-by-side.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Arthur is shaking in line, jumping, and taking huge breaths and blowing them out aggressively while they wait in line. Merlin finds it peculiar but doesn’t say anything. As they get closer to the haunted house, there’s a sign that says that people may go in groups for two, three, or four people. Since nobody else came with them, Arthur and Merlin stand next to each other to indicate that they’re a group of two. All the while, Arthur is putting on his ‘game’ face, apparently.

            “Gotta be ready for anything,” he declares flatly when the usher gestures for them to join her on the platform. After she recites her usual warnings the two are given the clear to enter. As soon as they plunge into darkness, Merlin feels Arthur reach into his pocket and rustle his hand around.

            The early parts of the Haunted House are mild enough with the usual spooks. Lights flashing on and off, doors creaking, creepy music starting when you enter and leave a room, nothing horrible at all. Once they reach the maze of mirrors, though, well, Arthur gets jumpy when the various ‘monsters’ start showing up in the reflections. At one point he moves as if he is going to take a swing at one of them.

            When Merlin bumps into Arthur, he reaches up to neck and pulls him in close so that he’ll hear him clearly, “Take my hand, dude, because you’re definitely going to hurt yourself if you keep this up.” Arthur nods curtly and offers his left hand to Merlin, who takes it quickly and guides him out of the mirrors. As it would appear, Arthur Pendragon might be some a master martial artist but he’s scared to death of Haunted Houses.

            They get out of the house and find themselves in yet another maze. It’s a fairly large hay maze. Sometimes there’s a large group of people still wandering, and so Merlin and Arthur find themselves getting pulled apart when they run into them. By accident they do get separated, so instead of trying to get out, Merlin figures it makes more sense to track Arthur down – because he’s probably panicking.

            It doesn’t take long. The martial artist can be heard doing his ‘hiyas’ at least a mile away. As Merlin draws closer and closer he moves faster and faster. And he keeps this pace until he nearly slams into Arthur who, unfortunately, lifts his fist and throws a punch directly at Merlin. The dark-haired man manages to dodge enough for the throw to miss his face, but a hard metal rips through the skin of his shoulder.

            “WHAT THE HELL?” he screams in reply.

            Arthur seems to calm down enough to see what has happened. “Bloody hell.”

            “Yeah, bloody hell, Arthur! It says don’t bring weapons! What were you thinking?” he demands in a low, straight voice that cuts through Arthur’s chest as easily as the – as he can see now – brass knuckles dressing his friend’s fist. His expression goes slack and he shakes his head. “You have no business going to any haunted house. Do you know that?”

            “I have a first aid kit,” Arthur offers, reaching his fingers to examine the wound. Thankfully, it is shallow and won’t require stitches, but he needs to get it cleaned up fast. Arthur takes Merlin by the elbow and asks him to guide them out in a meek tone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Cold as it is sitting in the hatch of Arthur’s modest crossover with his shirt off, Merlin feels just fine with his friend’s hands working to mend his wound. Rubber gloves and all, the blonde man is slathering Neosporin over the abrasion. As soon as he is done, he removes the gloves and jumps off the back of the vehicle to toss them in the trash. He pulls Merlin’s legs to get him onto the ledge of the car.

            “I’ll stand her to block the wind, but I need a better light to make sure I don’t put the adhesive anywhere that’s wet,” he remarks, explaining his actions no differently than he might for a student in his class. Merlin admires how genuinely Arthur acts as a caregiver. He means well always, and there’s not a single person that Merlin would prefer to be with in those moments. This will be a memory for the ages, he thinks.

            Merlin thinks about how he’s never told Arthur what he means to him as a friend when he’s pressing the bandage down. “You’re a really good friend. Even if you punched me in a hay maze.”

            Arthur laughs at him, pink in his cheeks and gloss in his eyes. He apologizes again. Haunted houses aren’t his thing, which is why he didn’t want to ride with anyone else and why he wanted to invite Merlin. He needed someone that he could trust to go with him. “I knew I’d need someone to keep me centered. It seems so childish now that I say it aloud.”

            Merlin smiles.

            “I’m glad that you trust me that much.”

            Arthur shrugs, “You’re a bae, right? That’s what the kids say these days?” He mocks the age difference. When he was sixteen, three years was a huge difference. Now that he is nineteen? Three years is so miniscule of a difference that they may as well be the same age. It doesn’t bother Merlin when Arthur makes those jokes.

            What catches his attention more is the term he chose to use. “Bae?”

            Arthur’s face goes from amused instantly to embarrassed. They stare at one another for a moment. Neither dares to speak for fear of what might be said. Merlin knew what ‘bae’ meant. It wasn’t something the ‘kids’ said to each other often. Well, it was often enough for it to be popular. Originally, though, couples started using it as a gender-neutral term of endearment. Not everyone wants to be called ‘pookie,’ as it turns out.

            “I mean, you’re definitely my bae, so… I guess we can say what the kids say,” his voice comes out stronger than he anticipates. Merlin leaves the who concept open for interpretation because he’s not totally sure what to think or feel about. He does hold Arthur in a much higher regard than anyone else he knows. He’s good friends with Gwaine and he’d do anything for him but he’s not about to hold Gwaine’s hand through haunted house. Lancelot is a great guy, and they’ve been friends for a very long time, but he’s not going to clean up after his weekend parties when his dad’s not home.

            Arthur cocks an eyebrow, “Before anyone else, that’s what that means right? What does that mean – you know – about…” his voice trails off while his hands shake a bit to gesture to the pair of them as a unit. Merlin doesn’t know what it means for them, though, and he shrugs just one shoulder in reply.

            Only they can decide that, “Does it mean we’re dating or something, do you mean?” Merlin asks with an airy voice. Neither man moves very quickly but they do sink into a sort of a hug. Answering the question seems superfluous. When each of them considers the last year they’ve been working together, helping each other out, and this night’s escapades – it seemed obvious that they’ve been dating for quite some time and just didn’t realize it.

            Arthur breaks the embrace first, “Let’s have dinner?”

            “I’m not hungry,” Merlin laughs, “but, yeah, let’s have dinner.”


End file.
